Days Are a Approaching
by Harric is Life
Summary: The day of your death is the day when you can be the nearest to the living who lost you. Tags: Afterlife; No Dialogue; Confusing; Vague; One Shot.


The days were approaching; he could feel it in his soul, because that's all he was now, since the day he lost the connection to his body. He always dreaded this, because of the inevitable pain he always felt, he hadn't felt any when he died, but every time that day approached he felt it. Even still, he was looking forward to the days, as he always did, because even if the pain was unbearable on those days, the best thing was the connection he could make with his parents, with his friends, the comfort he could offer, the guilt he could lessen.

There was not much to do in the afterlife anyway, everyone was at peace, except on the days they weren't. It was always different for everyone, since everyone didn't die the same day, but other than that, it was peaceful, it was happy, and for some it was lonely, and for others it wasn't. For him, it was something in between. He wished he could fly, he loved to do that, and for some reason no one could, in the afterlife, it was one of the biggest downside of being dead, or rather being a soul. He could float all he want though, but he was glad he wasn't a ghost, he had seen his death coming in the flash of light, and accepted, before leaving his body, and had come here, and had been an echo soon after. If he was a ghost, he would never have found peace, never would have loved life instead of wanting it back.

Apart from the days, which varied for all, the only ruckus that occurred here was when those three, and sometimes four got, together. No one worried about that anyway, and they enjoyed themselves, so it was all good, it was impossible for anything bad to happen here anyway. Whenever that happened, he had her for company, one of the firsts he ever met here, and he enjoyed her company immensely, so he didn't mind, not that he would've if he didn't have any company at all. She was so like her son, or rather he had been so like her, and they shared the same emerald eyes. He always wondered why they could see their bodies as they were, when they were just souls here, and their bodies buried in the world they left.

He always went to him on that day, after seeing his parents of course. They had started to bond in life, but after death he understood him better. He always felt a twinge of pain in his soul, but not like the ones he felt when the days approached, but still very much painful in a different way, when he saw him feeling immense guilt. He always managed to lessen the guilt, and he could see the comfort he offered when his shoulders relaxed. He was not much needed here anyway, because he had her, his wife, and his best friends, who were a bigger comfort than him, and he even had children, and a godson, who was so like his mother, it was a bit scary, he always told her that, and she would laugh, because she knew it to be true, she always saw him when her days approached, and of course on the day she died, and whenever she wished because he was born to her.

When her days approached, it was the most un-peaceful the afterlife got, because it was the approaching of a day when so many came here. He would never forget the look of desperation each and every one of them had when they appeared, before they calmed and accepted. It was also the day when the three who was here and one that joined so soon after her, had disappeared, and reappeared later, with another in tow. It was him he knew, without him telling him, because who else could it be who will come and go. But the days that were approaching were his, not theirs, a many days before theirs in fact.

On the day he always went to her too, and stayed with her the longest, because when that first day came he had not gone to her at all, and he tried to make up for it. She was happy he could see, but she got that look, weary and sad, and he knew the reason, it was him as always. She had a daughter, who was astoundingly like her in nature, and she made her happy and at ease. He wished he could be with her longer and give comfort a little more, but she was just someone he had kissed, not someone he was born to. He could see his parents more often than not anyway; it was fun to talk about them with his grandparents, so he was content with that.

Going to his parents had been a little difficult after sometime, because it was for so long that they could cope with him gone, it always saddened him. And more so because he knew himself to be the cause, and more so, because he knew he wasn't. They were getting happy, getting there, slowly, but he knew it was the most difficult for them than anyone else, a lot more than his friends, who had it difficult too, but he wasn't the only they lost, but he was the only his parents did. He wanted them to be happy, even if they weren't together.

He was among a few of the very young here, and sadly there were some younger than him still, but that was the way of death, it didn't care about your age. It was really amazing how people from centuries and centuries and millennia and millennia apart could all be here together, peaceful and content. He had met people he admired living, he had met people who became new friends in death, even if the ones from his life joined afterwards he didn't stop, because that never deterred him in life, so why should it in death.

He was a bit lonely still, and surprisingly a boy who he hadn't bothered with in life was one of the best company he had here, even if he missed his camera out loud. He was younger than him, and he had been smitten over him, and it was always funny when she was there too, how embarrassed he got, but she would just smile. and it wasn't in his heart to tease, and they were content. But not him for some time.

The days were approaching; he could feel it in his soul.


End file.
